


Answering the Call

by AceQueenKing



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, benediction of a goddess, gift from a goddess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:14:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26454733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/pseuds/AceQueenKing
Summary: Artemis decides to grant a boon to one of her less-devoted priestesses in person.
Relationships: Artemis/Original Female Character, Artemis/Priestess of Artemis
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32
Collections: Classical Flash 2020





	Answering the Call

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilverInk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverInk/gifts).



Artemis is a goddess of solitude. 

She does not often enjoywhat the humans call _civilization_. Artemis is a goddess of the countryside, the mountains, and the plains. The cities are more her brother's work; poetry and music and dozens of noises that blot out the natural sound of life. Artemis is not a woman prone to needing the comforts of mortal cities - or even of Olympus, beyond when she has chosen to interact with it. It matters little that humans call her _Artemis Aristo_ or _Artemis Aristoboule._ She is not prone to being buttered up by such words. Words lie in a way that actions do not.

Artemis always prefers actions.

"You are a wild thing, sister," Apollo teases her, every time she sees him; he sees it as a challenge, a mockery. She does not see it so. She _is_ a wild thing. She has asked her father to be seen as such forever. And that is why she, and not Apollo, has weapons forged by the cyclopes themselves; a bow forced of such beauty that it is beyond comparison to any weapon save her father's staff, her uncles' helmet and trident. They are light and swift and key of aim; Artemis enjoys using them.

There is nothing, she thinks, so potent a thrill as living in the wilderness for weeks at a time, hunting and living in a natural world. She spends the majority of her time then. Those on Olympus may find her odd for it, but Artemis will never apologize: their grandmother's glorious cornocopia of nature is a beautiful thing, and she does not regret focusing upon it. She has little need for Olympians; even less for the petty squabbles and love affairs that occupy her brother, father, and seemingly everyone else. She has lost count of their countless children, and cannot find their dalliances anything but troublesome.

But that is not to say that Artemis does not take an interest in the mortal beings that take an interest in her. 

The women who follow her are of a different sort, perhaps; girls meant more for the sword than the spindle. They are all such beautiful, luminous girls; it is a tragedy, she thinks, that they live so shortly. She wishes that they could all join her in her hunts.

But they barely last for one such hunt, and Artemis has her boundaries.

Or, should she say, _had_ her boundaries. Lately, she has toyed with making...exceptions. 

There is one particular attendant whose prayers always reach Artemis' own ear; _Great she-bear_ , the woman prays, and this and only this will always make Artemis listen. The little-bear of Brauron; blessed to her from birth, her _Melissa_. One of her priestesses, marked for Artemis from birth, named after the sweet bees that are also under Artemis' domain. The fates could not have more heavily sung her fate.

Artemis has watched her Melissa for many years. She is pleasing to watch, and Artemis has been glad to have her in her temple, for having her means that she will remain Artemis' forever, spend her voice on Artemis' prayers, offer Artemis' all her worship in her beautiful voice. Artemis stops her running through the hills and plains and, simply, listens.

 _Great She-Bear, please make the hunters' catch plentiful._ Her voice sounded like one of her brother's most heavenly melodies, the sort of tune that could make even their great father's eyes misty. _The harvest has been slim._ _My father and brothers are running with you, lady Artemis; though I wish I could join them, I have chosen to serve you at the temple, my lady. I cannot abandon my vow to place you first in my mind at all times, and perform all rites for you as you please, my lady. But please keep their aim true. Please...let me be contented with their offerings, rather than wishing to go to the hunt myself. I cannot slake the thirst, my lady. Selfish. I have served you all my life; please grant me this.  
_

Artemis frowns; the voice clearly longs for the hunt herself. Yet the prayer is not for her, but for others; not an odd thing for a priestess, but the sorrowful tone suggests that she is not entirely happy to carry such a burden. 

Though she is not fond of the mortal cities, Artemis decides to Melissa's home. Brauron, which is at least a humble place. They have not entirely forgotten their links to nature, unlike ...other places. The forest all but clings to the small village. 

She finds her Melissa at her temple; she is waving incense, her mouth open in a prayer that Artemis does not pay attention to, for she is caught on the shape of her mouth, pleasant in its movements. When she looks deeper, she sees a priestess in a sorry state: her lips echo the words she has been taught, but her eyes are on the horizon, scanning the forests at the edge of her sanctuary.

If she were another goddess, she would think such was a sorry state. But Artemis knows the desire for the hunt; the urge to run.

She whirls herself into a form mortals can gaze upon and taps the girl's shoulder. There is little point in denying, entirely, what she is, but she does not wish to burn the woman's eyeballs.

The woman senses her divinity anyway.

"My lady!" She whispers. "I did not mean--" She is afraid, Artemis sees: She knows that she has not kept Artemis on her mind in her prayers, knows too the rumors of what Olympians have done to those who spite them in some way.

But Artemis is not her brother, and Artemis does not mind if a priestess thinks of the hunt, rather than her role. It may not make her a good priestess; it does make her a good hunter.

And truthfully, Artemis will take the later over the former.

She cannot stop the girl from falling to her knees - which of course Melissa does, her body carefully prostate. But she is quick to bend down, and help the girl pick herself up.

"I did not come to smite you," she murmurs, voice calm. The girl trembles at her touch, and she wishes that she did not, but such seems the inevitable result of mixing immortals with mortals. "I heard your prayer." She does her best to sound reassuring, warm.

The girl nods but looks away; she is perhaps ashamed of her desire to run. She takes a deep breath, pushes herself to her feet, and there is a quiet strength in that, in the way she finally turns back to her goddess. "I'm sorry to trouble you, mistress, please--"

"You asked for a successful hunt, but you are praying for the wrong hunter," Artemis murmured. "It is obvious where your interests lie."

Artemis withdraws her bow from her back, offers it to the lovely girl. Melissa looks up at Artemis, unsure; Artemis smiles, nods.

"I am not worthy," Melissa says, her mouth stunned. "I am a terrible priestess."

"Your voice is sweet," Artemis says with a laugh. "And we will see if perhaps you are a better huntress in my retinue."

If she excels at such, Artemis will take her back to the heavens, have her father burn the mortal out of the girl, make her into a creature undying so that she will be able to help amuse Artemis with her wonderful little voice forever. The others may mock her for it but let it be so. She has never cared much about Olympian society anyway. 

"Is it really...?" Melissa looks up at her, lips slightly askance, and Artemis cannot help but kiss her. Melissa kisses her back quickly, plump lips caressing the goddesses own with tenderness and care. The kiss is warm, sweet; Melissa tastes of honey mixed with thyme. A truly blessed girl.

"With the luck of the goddess on your lips, how could it be anything but blessed?" Artemis says, a chuckle in her throat; then she breaks out into a run, her hands flying as she runs toward the forest at the edge of town. She hears laughter from a sweet voice and knows Melissa is right behind her. It has been a long time since she has hunted by hand, a longer time still since she has felt her heartbeat so fast.

Normally she would call her nymphs to her at this point, but this time, Artemis decides, she will see where nature takes the two of them.

With great joy in her heart, Artemis and Melissa begin the hunt.

**Author's Note:**

> The benediction of Artemis as the great she-bear and mentions of Artemis' being queen of bees are both taken from information about the worship of Artemis at Brauron/Vravrona.


End file.
